


Somatic

by Mothtrap



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Light Masochism, M/M, Orgasm Denial, Pseudo-Incest, Sexual Frustration, The Institute - Freeform, Wire Play, dubcon, no-bits robots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-09
Updated: 2016-09-09
Packaged: 2018-08-14 03:28:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7996960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mothtrap/pseuds/Mothtrap
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>N1-V4 slowly takes on the identity of Nick Valentine and finds himself developing some peculiar somatic desires. DiMA (D1-M4) is always there to help him out, no matter what.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Somatic

**Author's Note:**

> Fallout kink meme fill. Slight dubcon implications but mostly very feelsy. A completely different take on Nick and DiMA's time in the Institute and no relation to any of my other fics.

N1 crossed his legs, letting out a long, shuddering breath. That last time had been rough, probably the most intense session yet. He still didn’t understand what the scientists wanted to achieve, only that it hurt.  
  
He let his eyes wander around the empty room, slowly pulling his legs up to his chest. The feeling that something was left behind became stronger every time he was hooked up to that machine. He could feel… whispers… uncomfortable flashes… of something. He couldn’t put it into words, he couldn’t even begin to describe the things he saw, the things he remembered.  
  
It had left an acrid taste in his mouth. Bizarrely, it reminded him of that time the bio science lab had been on fire. The smoke, it had tasted similar to whatever this was.  
  
\---

There was someone else in the Institute. A friend, perhaps. He had been there for as long as N1 could remember. All his life, technically speaking.  
When the scientists weren’t pulling them apart to inspect every inch them, they talked. They got together when the only use the Institute saw for them outside of these experiments was janitorial duties.  
  
His designation was D1-M4  
  
They occasionally stole a few moments to share their experiences. It wasn’t long before they figured out they were part of the same experiment… yet somehow different.  
  
D1 didn’t experience any of these “flashes”, these strange feelings of recollection; of something not entirely your own.  
  
The more time they spent together, the more they desired to be in each other’s company. The more they missed each other while they were apart.  
  
When N1 was in pain from recent experiments, D1 was there to comfort him, and vice versa. Though it was mostly a one-way street. N1 didn’t understand why they had singled him out.  
  
\---  
  
“My name is Nick Valentine,” he said, his eyes bleary. “I know I’m an Institute synth, but I also cannot reconcile these memories I have.”  
  
It was the strangest sensation in the world, split between two wholly different entities, each accepting the other. But _Valentine_ was slowly encroaching on his life. At this rate, it wouldn’t be long before he consumed the synth fully, wouldn’t even _remember_ being N1-V4. Right now, the personality was at peace, guided by the knowledge of the synth.  
  
The tipping point had been reached. It was time to accept at least part of it. He couldn’t resist it even if he wanted to.  
  
“Nick… Valentine?” D1 said, the concern in his eyes greater than ever, empathetic. The fear was obvious in his voice. Afraid of losing his friend.  
  
“Please, call me _Nick_ from now on.” he said wearily, rubbing his forehead, a dull headache started he didn’t even know he could have.

\---

It wasn't long before the sensations set in. Fleeting pangs of physical discomforts. Something in his chest, something in his throat. He observed people eating and drinking and that's when it clicked.

He malfunctioned.

The physical unease became too much to handle, so he started mimicking the humans. His body wasn't made to handle excess fluid, let alone _food._ And yet he ate, he drank, but to his extreme displeasure it didn’t satiate his hunger or quell his thirst.  
  
Desperate but also in panic, he sought out his friend.  
  
With D1’s help he tried his best to purge his system, lest the scientist find out he was a failure.

But of course they had figured it out.

N1 was terrified they'd terminate him right then and there, useless, disposable. But no, they had simply cut the code out of him with surgical precision.

The next day he could smell the food in the cafeteria, could appreciate it, but had no desire for it. Despite what he had gone through, he sort of missed the desire, and shared this with his friend.

D1 was there through everything, even when new sensations cropped up. There to talk him through anything, soothing the pain.  
  
\---  
  
“Nick, what’s wrong?” D1 said, approaching him slowly. Nick shuddered, pressing himself further into the corner, shying away from the other synth’s touch.  
  
He had only just returned from his last round of experiments; D1 could see it in his eyes. “Come...” he said quietly, doing what he always did in these situations. He sat himself down on the floor next to Nick, gently pulling at his shoulders until he gave in and let the older synth cradle him.  
  
D1 ran his palm along Nick’s shoulders, patiently waiting until his shivers subsided.  
  
“I don’t understand,” Nick said, choking up. “The more they work on me the more I... forget. I don’t… I don’t...” He started shaking again, and D1-M4 sussed him gently.  
  
Nick took a shaky breath. “I don’t want to forget who I am.”  
  
D1 wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Anything reassuring would just be a white lie, devoid of any truth. It was pretty obvious that the Institute were going to follow through on their experiments on him.  
  
It was then that D1-M4 knew that for Nick’s sake, for his own sake, they had to get out.  
  
\---  
  
But it wasn’t easy, finding a way, planning an escape. As the experiments on himself intensified, he found it harder and harder to think clearly for hours on end, dazed. It only gave him small windows of time to think clearly, to plan.  
  
In the meantime, Nick’s condition worsened.  
  
In one of their downtimes and one of D1’s clear moments, he was unable to find his friend. He stashed away the mop he’d been using and started wandering around, checking all of their usual hiding spots. Eventually he found him, far away from the humans, sitting in a corner with his legs up to his chest and his face buried in his knees.  
  
“Nick?” D1 said softly, approaching him.  
  
Startled, the other synth looked up. It only took D1 a split second to notice there was a strange look on his face, something wholly unfamiliar.  
  
“I think it’s best if you get away from me,” Nick said slowly. His voice taking on a more unique quality with every passing experiment. He straightened out his legs against the floor, his fists lightly balled at his sides, avoiding D1’s gaze.  
  
“You know I won’t leave you, not if something’s the matter.” The older synth squatted down, reaching out to touch him, but Nick jerked away sharply.  
  
There was definitely something in his eyes. And his chest… it was heaving with breath. Synth’s didn’t _need_ to breathe. These latest tests had evidently unlocked more human properties in the synth.  
  
“Get away!” Nick said sharply.  
  
Startled, D1 stood up, stumbling backwards. It was a bad idea to press the matter any further, so he did as Nick asked, determined to return a little later.  
  
\---  
  
Finished with his duties, D1 once more sought out his friend, but couldn’t find him where he had been last. This time, it took him an hour to find him, eventually finding old an unused personal quarters, the door opened by a crack. He pushed it open and stepped inside.  
  
And there he was, sitting on a bed, his back against the wall… and his hand between his legs.  
  
As soon as the older synth entered, Nick’s hand shot up to his chest and he fumbled. “D1!” he said sharply, looking at him briefly before looking away, gaze darting around the room.  
  
“What are you doing in here?” D1 said, a slight frown coming across his face. “If anyone finds you here, they’ll-”  
  
“None of your business!” Nick said angrily, the grit in his human voice startling him once more.  
  
“Why are you so defensive? I am only trying to help. You remember me, right?”  
  
“Of course I do,” Nick said, decidedly more quiet. D1 approached slowly, but the younger synth jumped off the bed before he got too close.  
  
“What… what were you doing?”  
  
“As I said, it doesn’t matter.”  
  
There was something odd about Nick’s face. The same expression as before but also something like… color? On his cheeks? It was very faint but D1’s synthetic eyes picked up on it.  
  
“Are you feeling alright? You appear to be overheating. A coolant malfunction perhaps?”  
  
“Enough!” Nick sneered, stalking past him and straightening out his uniform. He disappeared before D1 had a chance to find out more.  
  
\---  
  
But the issue didn’t end there. Over the next couple of days, D1 observed Nick while doing their duties. There was a definite undertone of frustration in most of the things he did, sometimes replaced by a kind of absent mindedness, like shaking him from a dream.  
  
“Hm?” Nick said vaguely as he looked up.  
  
“I said, do you want to go for a walk? I could use a change of scenery,” D1 repeated.  
  
The other synth nodded, but his expression was one of numb detachment.  
  
They walked down the hallways, D1 trying his best to engage his friend. The humans around them threw them curious glances, still not entirely used to the concept of synths developing personalities. But this project had explicitly stated that they should allow them to move freely, to guide their development, especially that of the D1-M4 unit, which was reliant on experience.  
  
D1 ignored the scientists glares and eventually pulled Nick into a secluded corridor, gently pushing him against the wall.  
  
“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” he inquired firmly, determined to find out, determined to help.  
  
Nick was

once more avoiding his gaze, something of that… that _flush_ was returning to his cheeks. “I can’t really explain it, so there’s no point.” he finally admitted, clenching his teeth as he waited for a response.  
  
“You could try. You know I’m always here to help you.” D1 let go of him, but remained close.  
  
“I… I… It’s just… more human sensations. Things I don’t know how to deal with.” He visibly relaxed, voicing worries that he had been cropping up for days. “This time I can’t really pinpoint what it is. I mean, I know, I have Valentine’s memories to thank for that… but I don’t _understand_ .”  
  
D1 looked on patiently. “Is it something I can help with?”  
  
“No!” D1 exclaimed quickly, before squeezing his eyes shut momentarily. “No… I mean… I’ve never seen people in the institute do any of this. It seems like a bizarre human ritual and I… I don’t even know if it’s real. But then my body… I feel hot almost all of the time, despite my coolant pump working at optimal performance.”  
  
“You’ve seemed distracted too,” D1 observed.  
  
“I… I have been. Trying to figure out what this all means. I keep feeling this burning sensation. I want to ease it but I don’t know how.”  
  
D1 thought back how he had found his friend a few days prior, his hand between his legs.  
  
“Right here?” he responded, carelessly placing his palm against the point where Nick’s legs met, his crotch.  
  
The younger synth yelped in shock, backing away from him. “Don’t do that!” he said, distraught.  
  
“I’m sorry, did I hurt you?”  
  
“No! But… no!” Nick was breathing hard and fast. After a few tense moments, he bolted out of the corridor. D1 tried to follow, but he lost him soon enough. A strange new sense of anxiety filled his chest, scared he had harmed the only person he truly cared for.  
  
\---  
  
It was only the next day that D1 saw him again, after a new round of experiments. He was still pretty fuzzy himself, but was lucid enough to corner him.  
  
“You have to forgive me, Nick, please. I never meant to hurt you.”  
  
“I-it’s quite alright,” he mumbled, then sighed deeply. “It’s just… really _really_ confusing.”  
  
“Let me try to help you,” D1 pleaded, unable to bear seeing his friend unhappy. They were silent for a good long while, a quiet whirring was audible, signifying Nick’s internal fans working overtime.  
The poor synth’s eyes searched across the floor, avoiding D1. Then another sigh.  
  
“O-ok.”  
  
There was a quiet desperation in the way he said that single word.  
  
\---  
  
After finishing their chores and making sure their supervisors wouldn’t come looking for them any time soon, they found some private space. Some old quarters once again.  
  
They sat next to each other on the only piece of furniture they could both occupy, the bed. It didn’t mean anything to D1, but to Nick… there were flashes. Memories of heat, recollections of flesh and comfort and _pleasure._ _  
_ _  
_ But not like the pleasure of eating and drinking. No, far from it.  
  
He started to talk.  
  
“I-it feels like I’m missing something. It’s like with the food. I was hungry but couldn’t satisfy it by eating. This feels the same, only more… I don’t know...”  
  
“What are you missing?”  
  
“S-s-some parts of my body feel like they should be more… sensitive.”  
  
“That sounds like it has something to do with touch. But we can already use those senses as synths, they’re necessary for our survival. What more could there be?”  
  
Nick gave him a sideway glance. Oh if only he could explain.  
“I don’t know. It just feels… warm.”  
  
He shifted in discomfort. “I remember being able to… _Nick being able to_ … encourage that heat. And like… resolving it.”  
  
“Resolving?” D1 cocked his head in curiosity.  
  
Nick had no idea why he felt so shy, so embarrassed. He had never felt like this around his friend ever before. They had relied on physical comfort for so long to console each other, but suddenly now it felt _intimate_ , not just an expression of affection.  
  
“Resolving. Relaxing. It feels good.”  
  
“Ah,” D1 said in such a way that made it clear he did not understand at all. “Mentally?”  
  
“Both mentally and physically. I think.”  
  
D1 shimmied closer placing a palm against his friend’s chest. It made Nick’s coolant pump skip a beat, the heat pooling somewhere around his hips. He didn’t stop D1 as his hand wandered all across his chest, the brushing sensation eliciting reactions he hadn’t felt before. It was nothing like the comforting hug of a friend. This wasn’t calming. It was exciting.  
  
“Where do you feel most sensitive? Perhaps there is a way to _resolve_ , as you say. We can figure this out together.”  
  
“Just… just get close to me,” Nick said, his voice suddenly hoarse with want. He lied down on the bed, momentarily confusing D1, who eventually, awkwardly, lay down between Nick’s legs, chest to chest. He supported himself on his left arm while his right hand still felt every part of him, agonizingly slow, observing closely for any reactions.  
  
He pulled up the shirt of his uniform and prodded at the seams of Nick’s panels. The jabbing suddenly hurt, and Nick winced in response.  
  
D1 immediately devolved into an apologetic mess, but Nick simply pulled him closer, shushing him.  
  
The sensations remained steady for a while. Nick was tense and feeling good, but not much was really happening either.  
  
D1 hummed thoughtfully. “You have to tell me what to do. I can’t really help you otherwise.”  
  
“I… I honestly don’t know.”  
  
D1 placed his hand inside Nick’s palm. “Guide me.”  
  
Nick tentatively did so, placing D1’s soft synthetic fingers at a spot on his neck, just below his earlobe. Brushing the seams there, it certainly drew out a reaction.  
  
Nick let out a low, quiet moan.  
  
“A-are you alright? Does it hurt again?” D1 said, drawing his hand back immediately.  
  
Nick looked up at him through half lidded eyes. “No… no. That felt right.”  
  
“You sounded in pain.”  
  
“Humans have strange reactions to pleasure,“ Nick admitted sheepishly. “Sounds like that can uh, mean more than one thing.”  
  
“Ok, if you say so,” D1 said doubtfully, but returned his hand nonetheless. He continued brushing his fingertips up and down Nick’s neck, watching him writhe and groan. It slightly disturbed him, but he would do anything if it meant helping his best friend.  
  
Nick panted heavily, jerking his head away from D1’s hand. “Ok, that’s enough. I need a moment.”  
  
The older synth dutifully obliged, kneeling back up, still having Nick’s legs on either side. The younger synth’s face was more flushed than he had ever seen before, he quickly scrambled up too.  
  
“I, I don’t know if this is a good idea. I’m happy that you’re willing to try, I really am. But I...” He had no idea why he was suddenly so wary, so anxious. This is what he wanted, right?  
  
D1 sat back, folding his legs. “Ok. But if this keeps on getting worse...”  
  
“Let’s just see where it goes, alright?” Nick said, his eyes half lidded, his breathing deep and slow.  
  
\---  
  
But of course it didn’t stop there. A few experiments later, the sensation crystallized in Nick’s mind. He now knew what this was all about, but the frustration also grew. Many a moment alone, he rubbed the blank spot between his legs in a futile attempt to relieve some of the ache. He felt a little bit while doing so, but not enough to bring him close, not even by a long shot.  
  
More than once he caught himself walking while slightly bent forward, as if trying to hide an erection. More than once he caught himself mindlessly shifting the front of his uniform, as if to give himself some breathing room.  
  
He wished this phantom of the old Nick Valentine would just stop. There was obviously no way to relieve it, so why did he have to deal with it?  
  
He was in half a mind to overcome his embarrassment and tell the scientists. So that they could cut that code out of him, like they had the desire for food. It would be _easier_ , sure. But something inside him hesitated, remembering how much he missed the sensation of hunger, no matter how it had hurt.  
  
This was something anchoring Nick Valentine to his humanity. Arguably one of the most pleasurable things in life. Didn’t he have an obligation to try and find a way?  
  
One particular shift, he got so frustrated he abandoned his post, running off to find a secluded space. He was determined to do _anything,_ try _everything_ , if it meant satiating these feelings. Something he could now give a name: lust.  
  
Of course D1 had followed him, of course his friend was going to meddle. He had been keeping a close eye on him ever since this whole debacle started.  
  
Nick was torn between telling him to go away, and pulling him into a secluded storage cupboard. His mind made up things. _Fantasies_ . He remembered Valentine’s old escapades, his old fancies. But now, he found his mind making up _new thing_ s. Things between himself and D1. A fleeting second was all it took to imagine running his hands along D1’s smooth form, the erotic nature of their inherently virgin bodies suddenly so vivid to him. He imagined kisses, whispers of desire, a building heat, calling each other’s names, an incredible release in each other’s arms.  
  
But he shook himself. What was the point. D1 didn’t feel this way. Didn’t understand any of this.  
  
And yet, he wanted to help, in his own way.  
  
Nick grabbed his wrist and pulled him into a dimly lit storage room. The place was stacked with large metal crates, arranged to form some kind of maze. Sheltered from sight, Nick lay on top of a chest-height crate, big enough to hold him comfortably. He pulled at D1’s arms sharply, whose hips bumped against one end of the crate, standing between Nick’s legs.  
  
His eyes were wide. He had no idea what perverted thoughts were on Nick’s mind, how much he desired _his_ touch specifically. How could he even begin to explain that.  
  
D1 gave in, listening to his rushed requests, Nick trying to overcome his inhibitions.  
  
Standing but leaning over slightly, his hands ran along Nick’s hips. Much too careful, too delicate. Agitatedly, Nick pulled down his uniform trousers and threw them aside. He suddenly felt that sense of embarrassment rushing into him again. Something that had never bothered him before, but now made him feel exposed and vulnerable. Ignoring that feeling he arched his back as D1’s hand slid around his hips and followed the seams down to his crotch.  
  
Nick let out a low moan, the tension in his body powerful and unforgiving. D1 just held his hand there, unmoving, uncertain what to do.  
  
“You got to… uh… rub up and down.” Nick said, lust overcoming shame.  
  
“What would that accomplish?” D1 questioned, but did as he said, anyway.  
  
As the feelings intensified, a low rumble started somewhere in Nick’s chest, rising up to his throat; a groan emerged. Flashes of Valentine’s old life fused with his current experiences. He swore he could feel D1’s hand wrapped around his swollen cock, slowly stroking up and down.  
  
D1’s other hand rested against his chest, pushing up his shirt in an attempt to monitor his breathing.  
  
“F-f-fuck...” The expletive escaped from his lips, unbidden.  
  
“What does that mean?” D1 cocked his head, confused. “Am I doing this right? Does it hurt?”  
  
“No, no you’re fine,” Nick said, his voice strained. He could feel the frustration rising once more. It felt good, great even, but the pleasure he really sought was tantalizingly close, yet so far away. In his mind he saw D1’s hand rubbing up his shaft just a little too far away from his most sensitive spots. He ached to make him move up just that tiny bit further.  
  
“Please, harder.” He gritted his teeth and lifted his legs up a little further, placing one of his feet lightly against D1’s shoulder. The latter seemed perplexed by that action, but did as he asked anyway. The sounds coming from Nick were getting much too loud, too frantic. D1 was worried the scientists would hear them at this rate.  
  
Eventually something in Nick’s face changed. He jerked away violently, pushing up the crate, his back against another stack. D1 almost lost his balance, but planted his hands firmly on the edge to steady himself.  
  
“Are you ok?” he asked anxiously.  
  
“This… this is enough for now.” Nick breathed heavily. There was something like anger in his eyes, it hadn’t escaped D1’s attention.  
  
Nick couldn’t explain to him that this anger was pure, unadulterated frustration. Getting so close to orgasm and yet finding it so far away. It was better not to give in at all. He was just setting himself up for disappointment. He knew then that the sensations he felt between his legs weren’t his sensors being more active there, it was simply Valentine’s mind relating memory to experience. But he couldn’t finish on memory alone…  
  
He got up abruptly, pulling his trousers back on, slipping into his shoes.  
  
“I… I’m sorry.” D1 said sadly. “I was just trying t-”  
  
“It’s not your fault,” Nick cut in sharply. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself down. “I don’t think you can help me. It’s best if we just leave this.”  
  
“Again?” D1 said quietly. “If this is really something you can’t handle, maybe it’s better to let the scientists have a look at it.”  
  
\---  
  
But try as he might, Nick couldn’t work up the courage to tell anyone. He wanted to get rid of these desires so badly, but every time he convinced himself today is the day, he remembered how pleasurable it felt. Probably simultaneously the best and worst experiences in his short existence in the Institute.  
  
D1 could see it too, could see how his friend was still affected by whatever this was. It continued for a few more days, until the older synth got moved to action. He had prepared.  
  
He cornered Nick in another storage room, having lured him here after their shifts. He pushed against Nick’s chest, gently forcing him down on another crate. The mixture of apprehension and desire were clear in the younger synth’s face.  
  
This time, D1 climbed onto the crate too, forcing his legs apart and up, trapping the synth between his body and a stack of barrels just behind his head.  
  
“D1, I-”  
  
But he shushed him sharply, starting to tug at his clothes. Patiently, methodically, he removed every article of clothing from his friend, then placed a gentle hand against his chest.  
  
“I cannot stand to watch you suffer any longer, Nick. But I’m not going to tell the scientists for you. So the only option left to me is to figure this out once and for all.”  
  
Nick wouldn’t dare to admit that the authoritarian tone of his voice _did things to him_ . The sensations stirred in his gut like a sleeping dragon. At rest but always present under the surface, simmering.  
  
He felt reluctant, worried if this was right. Anxious about what D1 had in mind.  
  
It wasn’t long before D1 pulled something from a back pocket. A screwdriver.  
  
Nick’s eyes widened. “D1… what are you-“  
  
But the question answered itself when D1 stuck the flat blade of the tool in Nick’s seams, prying at the panel on his lower belly.  
  
Nick yelped, a sharp burning pain tore through him briefly before it dissipated, the panel lifted away from him. D1 had done this expertly. Where had he had time to practise? A nervous laugh rose in Nick’s throat as he peered down at his exposed innards, seeing the transparent tubes of his circulatory system carrying forth the florescent blue coolant. The actuators, the sensors, the joints, everything that made him _him_ , openly on display. He normally never saw this unless it was during an experiment. It kinda scared him.  
  
“I’m not sure that is a good id-” He started, trying to lean up. But D1’s hand came up, mercilessly pushing him back down, almost knocking the wind out of him.  
  
“Just relax,” he said, his voice calm as ever. But this time more… calculated.  
  
Nick tried his best not to laugh out of fear, closing his eyes. He felt D1’s hand shift between his legs once again, hand pressed up against his crotch. The feeling was familiar by now, and building quickly. It felt intense and fantastic for a few moments, before once again shifting into territory of unreachable desires.  
  
This is when D1’s hand came up to his belly, fingers finding their way through the mess of wires and moving down to some point _behind_ his crotch.  
  
Nick yelped in surprise, the feeling kicked off his survival instinct. He tried to twist away but D1’s other hand shot up, fingers clenching around the base of his neck, palm pushing against his clavicle. He held him down powerfully as he writhed in panic.  
  
“D1 what are you- AH!” He yelled.  
  
The older synth’s had found what he was looking for. His fingers smoothed around a metal rod that formed the base of Nick’s artificial spine. A cluster of nerves that lead out to his skin, made it so that he could _feel_ . But this… this was more direct. Almost to the point of it being painful.  
  
And yet… and yet… it felt more intense than Nick had felt all this time. It felt like he had just broken through an invisible barrier, able to move on. It filled his mind with some of the most depraved images yet. Flashes of burying himself deeply inside his lover. Phantom sensations of _being_ filled, something hard yet soft rubbing against his prostate, some of the most intense pleasure in Valentine’s life.  
  
His exclamations of pain slowly devolved into moans as D1’s fingers worked steadily, sliding up and down the sensors, lingering ever so tantalizingly on each one in turn. His mouth agape, Nick tipped his head back, lost in the feeling.  
  
“Looks like we found something, at last.” D1 said, relief in his voice.  
  
Nick couldn’t do anything but mumble incoherently. He started to rock his hips in time with D1’s motions.  
  
The memories merged again. This time he saw D1 riding him, taking his whole length and bringing him right to the brink of orgasm. Impossible. They didn’t possess that kind of anatomy. And yet Nick imagined it anyway. Picturing how good it would feel, how intimate to being doing that to his best friend… Nick would fuck him languidly, long and hard strokes, yet agonizingly slow. Eventually just tipping over the edge without much added effort or speed, spilling into D1, hot, heavy, sweaty.  
  
He snapped back to reality, back to the fact that the same synth had half his forearm squeezed down his innards, groping him where he was most sensitive.  
  
He tried to disconnect from it all, from the bizarre sensations, but it was difficult. He twisted and turned, growing steadily more uncomfortable despite the intensifying pleasure.  
  
“Nick, please stay still. I don’t want to hurt you.”  
  
“Ah… AH!” Nick yelped, twisting his upper torso, almost impossible in the cramped space. D1 pushed his own hips up further, pressing against Nick’s crotch. It was in an attempt to steady him, but it inadvertently intensified the feeling.  
  
D1’s fingers slicked against his insides, but the sensation teetered on the edge of pain. Nick tried to move away, but he was trapped. The older synth’s hand at his neck pushed down harshly. “Please, don’t squirm.”  
  
A small hint of panic started in the pit of Nick’s stomach, but he couldn’t move. He tried, but his actuators wouldn’t listen, wouldn’t obey. He felt paralyzed by D1’s touch.  
  
It edged into pain for a moment, then sank back into pleasure. Low drawn out moans filled the small storage room. He could almost see D1 sinking into him, fucking him with that same look of determination. Then he blinked and the mirage was gone.  
  
“I’m pretty sure this is right,” D1 mused to himself, his cool eyes observing him. “Your coolant levels have remained steady for the last minute, the tension in your limbs similarly.”  
  
Nick felt his eyes raking across his naked form. God how vulnerable he felt in that moment. The pleasure in his gut intensified at that thought, at the mere idea of him being nothing but an experiment to D1. If only D1 knew how deep this really went.  
  
But there was also a glint of compassion there. And it was obvious what that was. An intense desire to help out a friend. But sometimes to help, you had to do things to them they might not really like.  
  
Nick gave into the feeling, gave up trying to imagine _more_ . He just saw himself with D1, as they were now, sharing a moment of compassion between two friends, no matter how frantic and how unfamiliar.  
  
D1’s hand clenched around his sensors now, fingers dragging long and hard. It hurt intensely for a few moments before dissolving into the most powerful sensation Nick had ever felt in his synthetic life. He arched his back violently, straining against his friend’s hand at his neck, whimpering pathetically.  
  
“D1!” He breathed, his mind fuzzy, his eyesight dimming, almost going black. The older synth took this as a cue and didn’t let up, pressing his hips even more firmly between his legs, squeezing, rubbing, grinding.  
  
In rhythm with his motions Nick bucked his hips, only looking up at his friend through heavily lidded eyes.  
  
The sensations tore through him, building and building, hot, powerful, threatening to spill over.  
  
He went almost silent, gasping for air every few moments, straining hard.  
  
When he finally came, the sensation washed over him like nothing had ever done before. Not even in his memories of Valentine. His orgasm crashed into him like a wave, sweeping him into the depths, a terrible ache releasing, unclenching.  
  
He rolled his hips slowly, barely aware of D1 observing him closely, registering his every reaction. His friend slowed down a little, aware something had changed, even if he couldn’t know _how_ .  
  
The sensation spread from his groin to his chest, radiating out through his limbs, rising up to his throat in a strangled grunt. He could see stars.  
  
In a split second he had sensed the old Nick’s orgasm, cum spilling out over himself as his lover panted, leaning over him.  
  
Nick looked up at D1, a similarly satisfied smile on his face, though it was of an entirely non-sexual nature.  
  
“Seems like that worked,” the older synth reasoned slowly. “How are you feeling?”  
  
Nick felt the words stick in his throat. He simply gasped again, opting for a simple nod. His cheeks were positively burning.  He could feel that now.  
  
“I didn’t know that was possible,” Nick admitted lamely. “How do you know about those sensors.”  
  
“I’ve prepared. I’ve been trying to gain as much information about synth anatomy as I could while the scientists were experimenting on me.”  
  
Something in Nick’s chest twinged, a mixture between shame and happiness. D1 had done this for him. Had gone through all these lengths just to help his friend. He had found it important enough to find a solution, rather than to tell the scientists.  
  
“T-thank you.” Nick said, the gratitude making him choke up for a brief moment. He finally relaxed, his body settling back into the crate. He folded his arms behind his head, quite satisfied riding out the lingering aftershocks while looking up at the one he felt so close to. So intimate with.  
  
There was something in his gaze that made D1 cock his head and narrow his eyes. But he didn’t comment on it, didn’t even know what kind of question to ask.  
  
There was a kind of affection in Nick’s gaze, a longing that D1 only understood much later. Perusing his own memories long after their escape from the Institute, as he took on a new identity, a new name. He finally figured it out after all those years. Finally able to look back on it clearly.  
  
He shook his head, a small chuckle rising to his lips. He smiled.


End file.
